Peter Tremayne - Valley of the Shadow

‘Use the leaves only, boiled in water. You drink the infusion. It will taste bitter but you will eventually feel its advantageous effects. Do you understand, Saxon?’

‘I do,’ responded Eadulf quietly.

He took the leaves from her and reached into his purse.

‘A screpall is the smallest coin I have,’ he muttered, handing it to her, but Marga shook her head.

‘We have no use for coins in our valley, Saxon. We rely mainly on barter even if we deal with the outside world. Keep your coin and take the leaves as the charity of a pagan to a Christian.’

Eadulf began to thank her gravely but Fidelma interrupted with a smile.

‘I suppose a number of people have been struck with the effect of bad wine?’

‘Not many. Those who drink wine in preference to mead have developed the capacity to accept its potency.’

‘Were there any affected last night, though?’

Marga shrugged.

‘A few. Most of the pigs prefer to lay about and sleep it off.’

‘Does Murgal usually consume so much?’

Marga’s eyes narrowed in temper and then she seemed to change her mind and relax.

‘Well, he has not sought my aid nor would I have given it to him. I’ll applaud you for this, Fidelma of Cashel: last night you answered the pig well.’

‘You do not like him?’

‘Hadn’t you noticed?’ Marga jeered.

‘I had.’

‘Murgal thinks that he can take what he wants in life. He daredlay his sweaty paws on me. Now he has reason to know that he should not take such liberties.’

‘I see,’ Fidelma said gravely.

Marga glared at her in suspicion.

‘Is that what you wanted to know?’ she demanded with some petulance.

‘Not all,’ Fidelma smiled. ‘Eadulf here truly did want something to purge him of his feelings of discomfiture.’

Marga examined them suspiciously for a moment before going to the ass’s head and beginning to lead it away across the courtyard. Then she halted abruptly and turned back to Eadulf.

‘Have a care with that infusion of those leaves, Saxon,’ she called. ‘Unless taken correctly the plant has a poisonous property. The correct dosage varies in each person. For you, I would say no more than a sip or two.’

Then she turned again, dragging the ass after her in the direction of her apothecary.

Eadulf let out a sigh of relief and wiped his brow.

‘I am glad she finally said as much,’ he observed quietly, staring in disgust at the leaves.

‘Why so?’ Fidelma queried with interest.

‘Because, knowing herbs as I do, I thought she was doing her best to poison me. Had she not warned me, and had I known nothing about these leaves, I might be dead soon after drinking the brew. A sip is one thing but drinking the entire concoction is something else.’

Fidelma turned her head and glanced after the disappearing figure of the apothecary with interest.

‘Maybe she didn’t like you at first, Eadulf,’ she smiled thinly.

‘As a stranger, as a Christian or as a man?’ mused the Saxon.

Fidelma chuckled.

‘Well, at least she now likes you well enough to advise against your premature death.’

A horn blast shattered the air.

‘That is the signal for the start of the council,’ Fidelma advised Eadulf. ‘Put those leaves away and let us make our attendance.’

Eadulf groaned loudly.

‘I do not think I can last out such a meeting,’ he protested. ‘I swear I feel like death.’

‘You may die after the council,’ she replied cheerfully. Unwillingly, Eadulf followed her towards the chieftain’s building in the ráth.

Several people were moving towards it but they stood aside to allow Fidelma and Eadulf to enter first. In the antechamber, the tall, fair-haired warrior, Rudgal, was waiting for them. As they entered, he moved towards them and saluted Fidelma solemnly.

‘Please accompany me, Sister.’ Then, after a moment, he added: ‘You, also, Brother.’

He led them through the door into the council chamber where Laisre was already seated on his chair of office. The signs of the feasting of the previous night had been cleared away and a semi-circle of chairs had been arranged before Laisre. To the chieftain’s right was an empty seat where the tanist should have sat. Clearly Colla had already departed on his errand of investigation. Behind Colla’s empty chair was seated Orla but there was no sign of her daughter, Esnad.

To the left was a seat with Murgal sprawled on it. He looked as bad as Eadulf felt with red-rimmed eyes and pale face. There was still an angry red mark on his cheek. Behind him was a small table at which the elderly scribe, Mel, with whom Eadulf had spoken the previous evening, sat ready with his stylus and clay writing tablets.

Fidelma was shown to a chair in the centre of the semi-circle. A chair had also been placed for Eadulf, just to one side of Fidelma’s seat. Behind, Brother Solin and Brother Dianach were seated. The other chairs were filled with the lesser dignitaries of Gleann Geis while behind them, pressing around, some of the people of thevalley were crowded to hear what their chieftain would negotiate with the representative of the distant king of Cashel. The hubbub was loud and it was not until the horn blasted again that the noise eventually died away.

Murgal rose slowly to his feet.

‘The council is now in session and, as Druid and Brehon to my chieftain, it is my right to speak first.’

Eadulf started in surprise at the man’s discourtesy when he declared that he should speak before his chieftain. Fidelma, seeing Eadulf s concern, leant towards him and whispered: ‘It is his right under the law, Eadulf. A Druid may speak before a king.’

Murgal apparently did not notice this exchange for he moved to the side of Laisre’s chair of office.

‘You will know that I am opposed to this negotiation. Let my objection be recorded.’

He glanced to Laisre who nodded and added for the benefit of Mel, the scribe: ‘So it is said, so let it be written.’ He turned back to Murgal and indicated that he should continue.

‘Laisre’s ancestors ruled us well. They kept us from outside harm over the years, refusing to have anything to do with those who looked enviously at our pleasant valley. It is a rich fertile valley. Uncorrupted. Why? Because we have forbidden this valley to those who would bring changes from outside. Three years have passed since we accepted Laisre as our chieftain, for his derbfhine elected him in due manner to be the head of his household and made him lord over us.

‘But now my chieftain has seen fit to send to Cashel and ask for an embassy for the purpose of discussing the establishment of an alien religion in our land.’

In spite of his feeling of indisposition, Eadulf felt he could not let the matter pass without protest.

‘A religion that all the kings of Éireann have accepted and which has been freely practised for over two centuries in the five kingdoms.’ He was sarcastic, unable to keep his annoyance under control. ‘Foreign religion, indeed!’

There was a gasp of horror from the assembly and even Fidelma looked uncomfortable. Murgal had turned in annoyance to Laisre. He was about to open his mouth but the chieftain stayed him with an upraised hand. Laisre leaned forward in his chair and addressed himself to Eadulf directly.

‘I shall overlook your outburst this time, Saxon, because you are a stranger in this land and do not know its ways sufficiently to curb your tongue. You do not have the right to speak at this council. Itis only that you travel as a companion with Fidelma of Cashel that you are even allowed to sit in this chamber. Even if you had the right to speak you may not interrupt the opening addresses. Only when the opening arguments have been placed will the accredited delegates debate their worthiness.’